I Ran From My Psycho Step-brother Straight Into The Alpha's Lap novel Chapter 12

**When Night Grows Softer Hope Returns To Lead Us by Asa Rowan Finn**
**Chapter 12**

A sudden jolt of hot electricity surged through her arm, sending a shiver of sensation that rattled her very teeth. This wasn’t the harmless zap of static electricity; it felt ominous, like a warning bell tolling in the back of her mind.

Sophie instinctively yanked her hand back, cradling it protectively against her chest. Her heart raced as she looked up, only to be met by a pair of pitch-black eyes that seemed to pierce right through her. There was an intensity in his gaze that sent a chill down her spine.

“Pleasure, Sophie,” he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble, reminiscent of stones grinding against glass. It was a tone that commanded attention, one that felt impossible to ignore.

Her knees quivered beneath her, a mix of fear and an inexplicable thrill coursing through her. Damn it. That voice was like a cheat code, unlocking something within her that she wasn’t ready to confront. She nervously tugged at her apron, suddenly acutely aware of the two silly cats printed on her t-shirt, feeling utterly out of place.

Thank God for Helen, she thought, a small flicker of relief lighting up her mind.

“Helen! Torin! What brings a busy man like you here?” Helen’s voice rang out, bright and cheerful, as she bustled over, her presence a welcome distraction.

Torin finally broke his intense gaze, but Sophie could still feel the heat of it lingering on her skin, like a sunburn that wouldn’t fade. “I’ll be coming around more often,” he stated, his words hanging in the air with an unsettling finality.

It felt less like a promise and more like a veiled threat, and Sophie couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being drawn into something far beyond her control.

Taking the opportunity to escape behind the safety of the counter, her little fortress, she asked, “What can I get you?”

“Large. Black.” His response was curt and to the point, as if he were paying by the word.

Sophie turned to the coffee machine, her heart racing. The weight of his gaze pressed down on her back, making her skin crawl. Her hand trembled slightly, causing a few coffee grounds to spill onto the counter.

Calm down, she chided herself. He’s just a rich guy. Nothing to be scared of.

She rang him up, her heart pounding as she calculated the total, and he handed her a crisp fifty-dollar bill. Sophie reached for the register, her fingers brushing against the cool metal.

“Keep it,” he said flatly, cutting through the air like a knife.

Her hand froze mid-motion, suspended in disbelief.

The coffee was only a couple of dollars. That meant he was tipping her over forty dollars.

Sophie stared at him, shock and pride clashing within her. She was a fugitive, scraping by, but she wasn’t a beggar.

“Sir,” she managed to say, her voice tight with resolve. “The change is forty-six dollars.”

“I said, keep it.” Torin’s frown deepened, his tone unyielding.

Sophie’s grip tightened around the thin bill, her knuckles turning white as she fought against the urge to just let it go. In that fleeting moment, her mind raced with survival calculations: subtract the cost of the coffee, and the rest could buy her shampoo, a toothbrush, maybe even a shirt from a thrift store that didn’t make her look entirely ridiculous.

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